User blog:Psychomantis108/Story: Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Chapter 5: Jorane Lorwel
As you can probably guess by this point, this story is going to be longer than five chapters, this is fine by me, since I write as much as I feel that I need to, I never have a page goal in mind. Forgive the formatting once again, laptops are terrible for editing. I'm afraid that I also haven't put emphasis on some words, since I won't be able to, until I get back to my desktop. Eitherway, enjoy! Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Chapter 5: The scene of the crime As the group of Palace guards slowly closed in on Arlas and her Orcish companion, she found herself coming up with as many ways as possible to appease this situation. Trying to find the right combination of words that would avoid them getting detained or possibly a prison sentence. Bologra, on the other hand, was trying to figure out how many of these chumps he could take down before he and Arlas had to make a run for it. Either way, they’d have to think fast as the guards were slowly closing in, thankfully, Bologra had the advantage of not being weighed down by the hurdles of logic and consequences and within the blink of an eye, he had thrown his head back and roared an earthshattering battle cry. This somewhat startled everyone in the room, which was the idea behind it all. From his or any warrior’s perspective as it gave him a split second to get the first hit in. Bologra charged forward and punched the first guard, sending him spinning to the ground. The Second and third guard quickly snapped out of it and charged in, trying to swing their swords at the Orc, who stepped back in preparation. He threw a punch at the second guard, this time with his stump arm, forgetting that he had lost it the day before. The force was enough to shake the guard up and knock the clueless guard down but it also sent a shockwave through Bologra’s sensitive arm, which caused the Orsimer to burst into a rage induced roar, clutching it to try and appease the overwhelming, throbbing pain that whacking the stump had brought on. Arlas just watched in bewilderment, not wanting to take part, she figured that she’d just take the side of whoever won. Either way, she’ll probably be sleeping in a dungeon tonight, something that she had never fancied doing… The third Imperial Palace guard saw an opportunity here and charged in, getting ready to use Bologra’s injury to his advantage. Bologra looked up and saw that the Guard was charging towards him and saw that he had little time to prepare. The Orsimer quickly stepped to the side and brought his arm down, trapping the Imperial’s wrist between the Orc’s elbow and ribs. He then snatched the Palace Guard’s breastplate before throwing him as far as possible, laughing as he flew through the air, screaming and flailing his arms and before landing on the floor, with an ‘oof.’ “Ha! You call yourselves bodyguards!? I’ve seen cripples that throw better punches!” The Orc jeered, bursting into a fit of booming laughter, completely oblivious to the pounding footsteps of more guards. “Erm… Bologra?” Arlas asked, slowly looking up as she saw another dozen guards rush to the scene, she didn’t hide her feelings of dread very well. “What?” Bologra asked, seeming confused, until he actually listened and noticed that the guards were now pursuing him… “Oh crap…” The Palace Guards came to a stop, seemingly accompanied by a young Imperial man, in some sort of ceremonial robes. “What’s going on here!?” The man snapped, in a quite powerful and impressive voice, it was clear that he was some sort of politician. Possibly a councillor but he seemed a little young for that… “Erm…” Bologra mumbled, looking down as a Palace guard crawled past his feet, groaning and wheezing as he did so, over faced with the injuries that the Orsimer had inflicted on him. This prompted Arlas and her Orsimer companion to look to one another before pointing and declaring “It was him/her!” The Councillor, or whatever he was, looked down at the injured guards. They were injured but they seemed more shaken, than actually hurt, no real harm was done. These people obviously weren’t assassins, more likely rowdy townsfolk but one of them was a Priest, she was young but still a Priest… The other? Well, if he was on his own he would have already made his assumptions but something about this whole thing felt a little off. “Who are you people? Why are you here?” He decided to ask, getting Arlas and Bologra to look to each other in confusion. Bologra was going to open his big fat cake socket and compromise them further but Arlas quickly stopped him by giving him a glare that was sharper than any dagger that he’d ever seen. The Orsimer fell silent and let her take over this one… The Bosmer stepped forward and rubbed the back of her head, deciding that her best bet would be to just answer his questions for now… “My name is Arlas, I’m an Initiate, at the temple of the one. This is my…” She turned around, seeing Bologra picking some bits out of his beard and eating them before she made up her mind. “Patient… Bologra…” She said, in a tone that implied that the words were excruciating for her. “We’ve… Come here to figure out what happened to him.” The Councillor took one look at the Orc and immediately noticed his hand, it must be less than forty eight hours fresh and it was a miracle that he was able to walk around with such an injury. “Hmm… You don’t know how you lost your hand, Orc?” He asked, seeming more curious than angry at this point. Bologra looked to Arlas for permission to speak, suddenly getting an appreciation for how his brother felt, when he got married. The Bosmer nodded, giving him permission, though he got the feeling that there was a ‘so long as you mind yourself’ clause in there… The Orsimer stepped forward, scratching his face… “Erm… Well, not exactly sir, y’see a daedra cut it off and we came here to find him but he ain’t here, it’s like none of it ever happened.” The Orc explained, trying to keep himself calm, more out of fear of Arlas than the guard. “Hmm… A Daedra, you say? Here? In the palace?” The Imperial Councillor commented, seeming like he believed their story, at least on some level. “S-Sir Aube, you don’t believe this… Ludacris fantasy, do you?” One of his guardsmen asked, stepping out of line. “I-I mean, look at what they’ve done to the place! H-How can you take anything that they say seriously?” ‘Sir Aube’ swiftly looked to the Guard, with his brow furrowed, he didn’t really appreciate such negativity and closed minded thinking. “If there is a Daedra running loose in this Palace, then I’d say that their actions were justified, I’d do a lot more to prevent the Imperial Empire from falling victim to the madness of the daedra.” Sir Aube then turned to the others, seeming more than a little on edge at this point as he addressed the intruders again. “Do you have any proof of this?” He asked, though it sounded more like a request than a demand, he knew better than lesser men that the most damning evidence is rarely the most obvious. “Erm…” Bologra grumbled, running his hand through his hair as Arlas stepped forward again, shaking her head. “N-No Sir… We have a letter, which was sent to Bologra by this Daedra but we left it with one of the Priests at the Temple of the One.” She explained, surprisingly Sir Aube was still hanging on her every word. “They have no proof!” The same Palace Guard blustered, turning back to the Councillor with an indignant frown. “Sir, as much as I respect that your… Curiosity, these people have committed crimes against the empire and have no proof to justify them. I must take them into custody!” “You will do no such thing!” Aube snapped, not even looking at the guard this time as his voice echoed throughout the chamber. “I see no proof of Daedric involvement, yet but I also do not see any evidence that there isn’t any. Until I see evidence to prove either theory, then the investigation will continue.” He stated, turning to the Palace Guard and staring him down. “Is this acceptable? Or would you like to be remembered as the Guard who let a Daedra slip its twisted, black fingers into the mind of the Emperor and corrupt his thoughts? We all know that Sanguine once stripped an entire banquet naked, how can we say what is and isn’t possible?” The Guard fell silent and nodded respectfully, taking his place back in line. “Y-You’re right Sir… We cannot let the possibility of Daedra activity go uninvestigated…” He then paused and glared at Bologra and the trainee Sister. “No matter how unlikely it is…” “Good!” Soir Aube chirped, turning back to the others as he awaited answers. “Now, you said that you were attacked here? Where abouts?” Bologra turned around and gestured to the area, with the stump on his arm, giving the Councillor a shrug. “In there…” “The… Elder Council Chamber?” Soir asked, this was quite unnerving. “Show me.” - After several minutes of combing the area for evidence, clues and eventually anything that suggested that Bologra’s story was remotely true, all evidence turned up false. Eventually, Arlas just gave up looking and stood in the corner as Bologra rushed around the room, trying desperately to find anything that could suggest that his story was true. Eventually, the Orc just got angry and drove his fist down onto the table, growling with barely suppressed rage. “I don’t get it!” He snapped, panting heavily as he grew more and more frustrated, how can a battle happen and not happen? It wasn’t a dream, he had the marks on his body, from where he had been thrown about, he had no hand and he remembered what it was like flying up there. “Sir, this was a waste of time, I suggest that you let me take the Orc into custody, so that we can begin repairs on the doors.” One of the Palace guards insisted, getting Soir Aube to stroke his chin, still unconvinced that the Orsimer was wrong. Something about this whole thing seemed… Off… The Orc didn’t seem to be insane or delusional, not entirely and considering the power of a Daedra, it could have done anything to make him forget or experience false memories. This didn’t disprove the Orc, at least not entirely… He just had to prove it… “No, not yet, there’s still something not quite right here…” He insisted, raising his hand and turning back to the companions, finding his own faith to be a little fragile right now. He paused for a minute as he thought up the next possible course of action before looking back to some of the guards and snapping his fingers. “You there, men! I need you to get me a patrol report of the last week, don’t skim over anything, look over every detail and report back to me.” He ordered, turning his attention back to his other guards. “You, take them to the cellar, if something is here, then that would be the perfect place for it to lurk. You’ll need their eyes to understand what you’re looking for.” Soir Aube demanded further, before turning his attention to the remaining set of guards. “You and I will explore the upper levels, we’ll all meet back here within the hour.” The Imperial announced, getting a nod and a sharp ‘aye’ from his men before they all departed, save for Arlas and Bologra’s group, who waited as Soir Aube approached them. “You two will have to be under your best behaviour, my men are already looking for an excuse to arrest you, if you resist them or provoke them, I cannot guaranty that they won’t just slay you, the second that they have the chance.” The Imperial explained, though Bologra still seemed unimpressed, he could take them, he could take two groups of them, without breaking a sweat. In fact, they were just lucky that he didn’t have both hands… “Thank you.” Arlas replied, not wanting to give Bologra the chance to show them up further, she gave the Councillor a graceful bow. “But I don’t understand, Councillor… Why are you doing this? Why do you believe us?” She asked, a thought that constantly nagged her mind, throughout this torturous process. Aube looked down to her, with a slightly solemn look, folding his arms and frowning as he found himself considering his answer. “Because… I know the Daedra. Of them at least, I know what they’re capable of and just how manipulative they can be. I could never, in good conscience let any possibility of a Daedra siting go unchecked.” He replied, seeming somewhat pained by the thought of letting such chaos run rampant in the tower. He eventually broke from his thoughts and turned his attention back to Arlas and Bologra, giving them a respectful nod. “I must be off, to help with the investigation…” He informed them before turning around and walking away, stopping as he got half way to the door and turning back to them. “Good hunting.” With that, he was gone, leaving Arlas in the… somewhat capable hands of her Orsimer companion and half a dozen bodyguards, who seemed frustrated and a little tense from their encounter earlier, with the Orc. Feeling pressured to do so, the Bosmeri Priest lead the way, wondering how she’d gotten herself into this mess… - The group slowly approached the cellar door, where Arlas and Bologra stood patiently, waiting for one of the Palace Guards to find the key and unlock it, only to get a look of confusion before one of the guards stepped forward and pushed it open. Arlas sighed, realising that she wasn’t off to a great start, still she couldn’t decide if not knowing that these guys kept the door unlocked was stupidity on her end or theirs. The Bosmer stepped forward and slowly descended into the basement, finding herself to be immediately followed by a dozen shiny soldiers and the hulking Orc, who had to stoop his head low, in order to slip in. As they descended into the, surprisingly shallow, basement, which was surprisingly empty, save for a few boxes of clutter and the odd statue. Arlas had read that there was once an oversized throne here, a huge hour glass, a giant crystal ball and a gargantuan club. However, the palace was sadly ransacked, during the Great War. Most of the equipment that wasn’t stolen was destroyed, intentionally or unintentionally, during the chaos. It saddened Arlas to think of it really, so much was lost… Bologra, on the other hand, had no idea what half of this junk was. He saw a statue of a lady, holding a spear and looking all meaningful, which seemed a little pointless to him. The Orsimer didn’t understand the obsession that Imperials had with ‘art.’ The Orc saw it as pointless, for the most part, except maybe the statues with tits. Yeah, statues with tits were okay as were statues with gore and violence, being portrayed in the most awesome way imaginable. That seemed okay to him… Bologra paused for a minute, wondering if they kept any statues with tits down here but then remembered that he was supposed to be looking for Daedra. Arlas had already gotten to work on it, seeing that several items had sheets over them, curious as to what was buried under the sheet, Arlas reached up and tugged it away, revealing a rather strange statue of a stunted scamp in formal clothes. The Bosmer just raised an eyebrow before walking away, moving on in the hopes of finding something that was actually Daedric… Bologra approached a magical sword that was seemingly stuck in a large stone, it seemed to be wedged in pretty tight. The Orsimer just grinned as he looked around, he knew how this fairy tale would end… As the Orc wrapped his hand around the hilt, he was immediately hit with a powerful surge of electricity, that shot straight through his body. After a few moments of being electrocuted, Bologra cried out in pain before he was thrown back into a pile of boxes, landing with a heavy thud. “B-Bologra!” Arlas gasped, turning back, fearing the worst for him as he wasn’t exactly at full strength. However, it seemed that her worries were unwarranted as she watched him scramble to his feet, grumbling something about magic and how stupid it was as he stood up. He stepped on a small box, which immediately broke under his feet, prompting his foot to fall in, ankle deep and get stuck inside. The Orc tried to shake it off but struggle and eventually shattered the box, with a hard stomp of his other foot. “Do not touch the artefacts…” A Palace Guard said, rather calmly as he was trying to hide his amusement, somehow that made all of this worth it. “Grr… Getting touched is the least that that stupid sword has to worry about…” The Orc grumbled as he coddled his stump and continued to examine the area. The group pulled away several sheets and looked around the items that they contained, though they came face to face with some wonderful, fascinating and some even downright weird artefacts, nothing remotely Daedric had come up. Well, save that Scamp Statue but it was obvious that, that was crafted with human hands… Eventually, after a good twenty minutes of searching, the group arrived back at the center of the room, everyone had empty hands and glum expressions as they were forced to admit that they turned up with nothing… “Yeah, there’s nothin’ here, nothing but statues and a few boxes of crap…” Bologra grumbled, kicking one of said boxes aside as he approached them, hopefully there was nothing valuable inside it. Arlas rolled her eyes but couldn’t do much but admit that he was right, there was nothing here that suggested Daedric activity was going on inside the tower. Maybe… Maybe it was all a dream… She thought, looking over to Bologra, who didn’t seem to be all that bothered by it anymore, he actually looked more bored than anything else. It… It doesn’t make sense, how can someone lose their hand to a dream? It just isn’t possible… “Oh… But it is…” An alien voice ‘replied’ inside her head, causing her spine to straighten as the walls, ceiling, the artefacts and even the other people began to burn away and vanish in smoke, leaving her on a tiny island at the center before the levitating form of Jorane Lorwel. “You just need to be in the right dream…” Category:Blog posts Category:Stories Category:The Legend of Nirn